Hidden Pains
by ade721
Summary: Cameron yet again is dealing with her inner turmoil. House knows something is wrong, but can he pull her back?
1. Failure

**A/N: This is a short chapter since I have to do so much research on this. I have a team of people helping me out, so thanks to the peeps on the RYL ED boards, and to Vanessa. Also, It appears I am picking on Cameron, but I believeA LOT can be done with her character. Hopefully no one is too horribly ooc in this. This is an updated version of it after so extra input from my people who are helping out. **

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&  
Dr. Allison Cameron was pouring over files in the conferernce room her perfect skin looking even paler in the harsh flourescent lighting. Her usually gorgeous brown hair was now hanging limply down partially obscuring her face.

Dr. Gregory House stood outside of the conference room, and sighed as he took in her form. It was now becoming painfully evident that she was losing a lot of weight quite rapidly. All of her clothing was at least one size too large, save for her lab coat. Cameron always managed to swipe a new lab coat whenever hers were threatening to swallow her. House gave up on his analysis of her and limped into the conference room.

"Eat" He commanded as he dropped a take out box on top of her files.

"No thanks, House. Just ate." She replied pushing the box away.

"Wasn't a question. Eat." He stated.

"House, no. You just saw me eating. Plus, I have things to do in the lab." She stated.

"No you don't. Eat now. You really want to risk your job just to starve yourself?" He glared into her eyes. Cameron felt he was staring into her soul and consuming all of her secrets. For a moment this thought brought her peace. Finally someone understood where she had been in her life. Then the terror struck. She could not allow him to take this control away from her.

Cameron knew she wasn't getting out of this without obliging him. House had been following her steps for weeks now. He thought he was being super sleuth, but Cameron always knew when he was looking over her shoulder. The startling thing was Cameron felt she was always being careful. She budgeted her calories so that any food she was intending to eat, it would be at work where they would see her doing it. This never guaranteed that the food always stayed down, but it meant House saw her eating which was a good thing to her. She sighed sadly as she slowly attempted to eat enough of the burger and fries in front of her to rid House of his worries. Something inside her soul cried out when she pushed the food past her lips. This was going to cost her about 1000 calories. As she ate, she tried to hide the fact that she was near tears. It was over an hour later When Cameron finished the meal, she gave House what she thought was a triumphant grin. In reality it was sad little smile accompied by slighlty moist eyes. It amazed her that he had sat there the whole time staring intently at her watching her every bite. House wasn't satisfied. There was a smile on her lips, but there were tears in the corner of her eyes. Allison Cameron was becoming a harder and harder puzzle for him to solve every day.


	2. Proving worthiness

**A/N: So here is the long awaited chapter 2. A lot of work has gone into this and a lot of research. If this isn't fabulous, my betas are fired. No I'm just kidding! I love them all. Enjoy. Possible triggers for eating disorders, read with care.**

With her eyes slightly averted Cameron mumbled, "I've got work to do," and walked out.

It was a definite surprise to her that House let her out of there that easily. The look in his eyes said he knew something. Paranoia began to wrack Allison as she realized what he knew. He hadn't been following her to see what she ate, it was to see how she had reacted to it. When Cameron was in control of what she put into her mouth, she was in control of her emotions. Anything she was feeling was hidden under a mask of confidence and self assurance, but that was only if she was in control. That control of her life was all that Allison had anymore. Thoughts of unworthiness clouded her mind as she made her way to the women's restroom. All she could control now were the tears she refused to let slide down her pale cheeks.

_"Stupid! You know you could have fought him off!"_ Her mind screamed at her. _"You are weak! You give into House everytime. He flashes his baby blues and you think you're worth something? You're not! He pitties you. He knows you are weak. He sees all of your fat and he pitties you. There is nothing in his eyes for you except for disdain for your flabby shapeless form. You will pay for this."_

The voice had become unwelcome company in her mind. She was well familiar with it. This was the voice of failure. There was only one way to make this voice go away. Cameron had to prove she was stronger than the voice; stronger than the weakness House had allowed her to inflict upon herself. No, he hadn't allowed it, he had forced it. When the voice started a long time ago, Cameron had been under the delusion that if it hadn't been her fault for the weakness then she wasn't to blame. Now, though, she knew better. It was always her fault. Everything in life was her fault. It wasn't as if she had House's god complex. She didn't think she could fix everything. All she knew was she could fix herself and her world. The only way to fix that was through the control she had...the control HE had taken from her.

Allison silently entered the ladies restroom and checked the stalls. No one was in there. This was the perfect time to prove she had the control and that she was strong enough to deserve perfection. Cameron bent over the toilet as quietly as possible releasing the poisons from her body. The familiar sting in her throat and eyes was present as she realized the control had now shifted.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy entered the restroom and heard the sounds of a person vomiting. This was a hospital after all, sick people everywhere. As a doctor though, she felt obligated to make sure the person was doing ok before handling her needs.

She rapped lightly on the stall door and called "Are you okay in there?"

In that instant Cameron froze. This wasn't just anyone checking to see if she was ill, this was her boss. The one person that could ultimately make or break her career. Getting caught wasn't an option ever.

"I'm fine Dr. Cuddy." Cameron said through the door as she wiped her mouth.

"Okay Cameron. When you're done in here, you can go home for the day. I think you need some rest. There's a nasty flu bug going around, and I'd hate for the entire diagnostics department to get sick as well."

"Thanks Lisa"

By then Cameron was filled with panic. Had Cuddy truly believed that she only had the flu? Was it going to be that easy to get away with this?

Cuddy left the restroom with a final "Go home and feel better." and Cameron gave a sigh of relief. She went back to the business at hand of purging her body of all of the guilt and poison she had had to put into it.

Cameron stood up and wiped her eyes smudging all of her makeup. She noted the restroom was still emtpy and she went to work painstakingly reapplying her make up. Allison always kept a cosmetic bag on hand for just this type of situation. As she looked at herself in the mirror for an instant she felt in control enough to look herself in the eyes. Everything was now in order and she could head home.

Lisa Cuddy entered the diagnostics office and made a beeline for House's office. He was sitting with his legs propped on the desk playing gameboy.

As involved as he appeared to be he managed without looking up to say "I'm in the clinic right now. Check the paperwork."

"Funny..But I'm not here about the clinic. I just wanted to inform you that I sent Dr. Cameron home."

"What? Why?" The sound of his gameboy signified that he had lost a life.

"She's sick House! Contrary to what you believe, you are NOT allowed to work your employees to death." she now glared at him with her hands on her hips. Was he really that dense to not know that Cameron was ill? Or was he more willing to believe that he could work her as hard as he wanted?

"Sick? As in how sick?" He looked confused. For House that was a first. He always had all the answers yet this time the puzzle eluded him.

"Cameron was throwing up. I didn't really feel like getting the rest of the diagnostics team sick as well. Good bye and get Chase outta the clinic and do your damn job." She declared as she strutted out.

She heard a faint "God damnit!" as she walked out into the conference room.

Lisa couldn't figure out why he cared so much. Usually his only thoughts were of avoiding work and irritating everyone else. What was this sudden interest in Cameron's life now? He had turned her down previously leaving her looking foolish. Diagnosticaly the flu was boring, so he didn't want her for a case study. There had been a glint in his eye that told her what it always did: He knew something she didn't know. As she reached her office Cuddy came to the conclusion that she simply didn't want to know. Whatever was between Drs. House and Cameron was going to stay there.

Back in House's office The Who was blaring from his Ipod and he was angrily throwing his oversized tennis ball at the wall.

_"Damn her! She lied to me! She looked right in my eyes and lied!"_ he thought. Rationality began to take hold of him. _"She didn't lie...I said eat, and she ate. I didn't make her promise she wasn't going to go blow chunks in the bathroom. Maybe I should next time. Can I put that in her contract?"_

As much as he thought and agonized, he couldn't figure why he cared so much what she did. He kept telling himself repeatedly that he needed a healthy immunologist on his team. And that was all. That was the only reason he gave a damn. House had to believe that...otherwise he would have to consider the idea that he truly had feelings for Allison Cameron. That wasn't something his mind was ready to conceed to quite yet.


	3. Reliving the past

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this new chapter up. I need to thank JaeW for all of her hard work on this chapter. She did a lot of rewriting and editing on it. Awesome. And, This chapter contains at least one graphic scene that is possibly triggering. Take extreme care while reading. Enjoy. Apologies again to all who don't wish Cameron to be tortured...  
**

Thud Thud Thud

Cameron's shoes sounded as she hit the treadmill. Sweat poured down her face and onto her jogging outfit. She was dressed in grey sweatpants and a thick black sweatshirt.

"One more mile. I will prove I deserve the perfection. I am strong enough. One more mile. Gotta get it all off gotta run." She thought as she ran.

The song "Fighter" by Christina Augilera filled the air:

"Makes me that much stronger Makes me work a little bit harder Makes me that much wiser So thanks for making me a fighter Made me learn a little bit faster Made my skin a little bit thicker Makes me that much smarter So thanks for making me a fighter"

This song had become her motivation. Whenever she needed to draw extra strength from inside herself, she would put this song on repeat, and run a few miles on her treadmill. This was how she calmed down; it was how she felt in control and at peace. It was her serenity and sanctuary from everything in the real world. This was her escape.

Her escapes hadn't always been this serene growing up.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

_Sixteen year old Allison Cameron lie quietly on her bed. Her room was dark and the blinds were close; there were tears at the corners of her eyes. Only two days before, her mother had passed away. It had been a long and painful fight with cancer. Allison remembered sitting with her mother in those last weeks holding her hand and telling her everything would be fine. It was a working routine. Young Allison would come home from school and enter her mother's room. It had always been the same dialogue:_

_"How was your day Ali?" her mom would ask._

_"It was good mom" and allison would launch into details of her day while her mother listened intenly. It had been so nice making her mother feel good again even just for a little while. A thin smile would come accross her mother's face as she tried to not show the pain that was filling her body._

_As Allison recalled all the good times tears ran silently down her face. What was she to do now? The whole time that her mother's health was declining, Allison's father had been sinking further and further into the bottle. He had said that he just couldn't take it all; He just didn't have the strength to support a dying wife and a teenage daughter. So it had been Allison driving her mom to and from the hospital and making her comfortable, all the while keeping horrific secrets from her. Allison figured it was the least she could do to make her mother's last days comfortable. Explaining to her all that she was hiding would only hurt her and make her give in to the cancer quicker._

_"It was better to keep the secret" Allison tried to convince herself that night while she lied in bed sobbing for the loss of her mother._

_Though her mother had just passed, Allison's survival instincts kicked in. If her father continued at the pace he was going of drinking and gambling, they will burn through their savings in under a month. He had no intentions of getting a job or taking care of his daughter. Those things didn't matter to him. All that mattered was drowning the pain that his wife's death had inflicted upon him._

_Allison turned out her light that night with the knowladge that the next day she would look for work...someone had to support the family. It was comforting to know she had a plan. Of course they couldn't live off whatever meagre minimum wage job she got, but just maybe it would make it a little easier._

_By the clock on her night table, Allison knew it had been 2 hours since she had drifted off to sleep. She had awoken to her father clumsily letting himself into the house._

_Huddled under her blankets barely allowing herself to breathe Allison begged God "Please, please. Don't let him find me. Just once, please? Tonight...just let him pass out? Please...do not let him find me."_

_As she heard her door open and smelled the whiskey on him, Allison knew there was no God. No one was going to save her tonight just like no one had saved her all the other nights. She was on her own._

_Her father took a look aroudn the room and called out "Ali? Allison?"_

_He pulled the covers from her bed and found his young daughter huddled in fear. When he got closer to her, Allison wanted to puke from the stench of his alcohol and cigarettes. on him._

_"Control!" her brain screamed, "Control!" Quickly Allison tried to think thought of anything she could do. in this situation. What She knew from previous encounters, such as this was that all she could do, would be to control were her tears. Each time, she chose not to cry. He would not see her weak. He would not get the better of her. Allison stifled a scream as he penetrated her against her will. She continued to control the only thing she could, her body, her tears. In these times, her mind allowed her to slip away. Her mind carried her to places where she was safe. She didn't have to be there being violated in such horrid ways. Inside her mind, she was miles away remembering the good times with her mom. She recalled the trips to the park before her mother fell ill._

_Allison lay there with a blank look on her face and a blank feeling in her soul. When he had finished raping her, he shook his withered member, zipped it back into his jeans and wiped his hands on her bed-sheet. He looked as if he had just finished a routine task such as washing the dishes._

_"Nice meat on those bones Allison. I always liked my women thick." he said with a sneer as he stumbled out of her room._

_Once he was gone, she allowed herself to let the tears flow from her eyes. She felt so dirty, so bad for allowing this to happen._

_"You are bad. You are dirty. You're a bad person. Horrible." she thought "Horrible must be punished. This is my fault. I must have led him on. I'm cheap. I'm fat."_

_She continued to mentally berate herself while she reached underneath her bed for a small wooden box. Opening the box revealed a stack of razor blades, a towel that had a few blood stains on it, and some gauze and bandaids. This was how she paid for the guilt; this was how she controlled what he did to her. Allison took the pain out on her body so that she would look as hideous on the outside as she felt on the inside._

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--  
Allison shook herself from her flashback. She was still running on the treadmill. The read out said she had gone 5 miles. There was a hollow knock at the door. She was familiar with this sound. He had used this same knock when he came to beg her to come back to work. Cameron knew House was out there knocking with his cane. What she didn't know is what he could possibly want from her right now...unless Cuddy had told him why she was sent home.

Cameron grabbed her towel off the treadmill dried her face and turned off her stereo. If she could just hide long enough he would go away. She stood holding her breath for a moment while he knocked again.

"Come on Cameron! I know you're in there. I heard your...music. I know you're home. Let me in?"

Cameron weighed her options. If she let him in he'd command her to eat and threaten to fire her and cause all sorts of problems. If she didn't let him in, he would stand at the door all night banging on it trying to get her to pay attention to him. Either way it was a loss. She opened the door to reveal a rather irritated House.

"You actually let your neighbors hear you playing that crap?" He asked remarking on her music tastes.

"I'm sure you've got worse." She said thinking of his James Blunt collection. "What do you want House?"

"Well, Cuddy told me I had a sick duckling. Being a doctor...I figured I could help"

"You can't. It's just the flu. I should be better tomorow."

"Of course you will." he said stealing a glance at her hands.

Cameron caught his glance and tucked her hands in her sweatshirt pockets. She wouldnt' allow him to see the damage the purging hand done to her hands; she was too strong for him to see that sign of weakness.

"I'll see you tomorow Dr. House" Cameron said as she tried to close the door. Of course, his can was there and she couldn't. "House, what do you want? This time be specific. I'm tired and I need to rest so I can get better."

"I want to cook you dinner. Special chicken soup it'll fix you right up." He stared intently into her eyes searching for a reaction.

"Sorry, but as sick as I am, it'd probably just come right back up."

"You just need to get a little meat on your bones and you won't get so sick so often." He said innocently.

"What did you say?" rage was now evident in her eyes.

"What? I said you need a little meat on your bones." House looked truly confused.

"You son of a bitch! Get the fuck out of my apartment!" she shoved his cane from the door jam and slammed the door in his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-/-/-/-

House stood in Cameron's hall way utterly mystified. What had set off his female duckling? He was missing more than a few pieces to this puzzle. But, how long would it take him to find them all, and in what condition would she be when he figured it all out?

"Why do I even care so much what happens to her? If Chase was vanishing before my eyes would I offer him chicken soup?" He thought on his drive home "I suppose I would. I need him healthy so I can torture him. But why do I need cameron? She's a damned good immunoligist, that's for sure. So that's it. I just need a healthy immunoligist."

How many more attempts would he have to make to convince himself of that? When he layed down in bed that night the vicodin and the day's events took their toll and he was soon fast asleep.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/


	4. Transparent, Dirty, Weak

**A/N: I can't exactly figure out how to describe this chapter to you. It's slightly leaning towards Cam/Wilson right now. I'm not sure how far I'm letting that one ride out though. I came up with this chapter after having minimal sleep for 2 days, so forgive me if it shows. I rather like this chapter though. Someone said that it is simply irritating and makes fics suck when writers give their characters Eating Disorders or make them Self Injure. I believe that it doesn't. I believe that this fic gets a lot out of me that's been insidefor a long time. I'd like your opinions on sucky or not as far as giving them angstful things to do. Thanks as always for reading. I'm open to suggestion as to where people would like to see this go.**

Cameron paced the floor of her apartment after having kicked House out. How could he manage to say the most aweful things at exactly the wrong time?

"He Knows!" Cameron thought "I'm transparent, dirty, weak. He can see what happened...what I let happen. Everyone will always see it on me. Dirty...worthless...slut..."

All of a sudden, the mental noise stoped. Cmaeron was no longer mentally berating herself. A warm sensation brought her out of her stunned reverie. As she drifted into reality she saw it. There was blood falling from her arms and legs; a razorblade was in her right hand.

"Oh god.." she moaned quietly.

It had been at least ten years since she had been this out of control. There was such a helpless feeling that accompanied the blood raining into the sink. It had been as if she'd blacked out. While she had been mentally attacking herself, Allison's body went on auto-pilot. The only way to stop the raging mental storm had been to inflict physical pain. While she stared at the hypnotic blood flow, Cameron mused over the fact that it had been many many year since she had allowed herself such a breakdown. As a doctor she should have known from her psych rotation that it was bound to come up eventually. There is only so long you can supress things before they come to the surface...in one way or another.

Allison staunched the blood flow and examined the wounds. Four of them would need a few stitches. She chose to bandage them tonight and wait until tomorow to seek out Wilson's help. No matter how alone she felt, Wilson was always there.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/

_At least once a week, Cameron and Wilson got together at her home to watch movies and just hang out. Neither would consider this dating. It was simply two friends having a good time togehter._

_As Cameron had pointed out a few weeks previous "If this is dating, you and House have been going steady for over twenty years"_

_Wilson had looked thoughtful at this and given her a grin, "Don't ruin this by making me feel like I'm cheating on House!"_

_One night, they had been stretched out on the couch. They had just finished watching Donnie Darko. Cameron had been in a thougful reverie trying to figure if this movie had truly sucked or if it had deeper meaning. She was stunned when Wilson had spoke._

_"Ally?"_

_She sat up to look at him "Yeah James?"_

_"What's Wrong? Please, don't lie to me. I know something's going on with you."_

_All Allison had thought to do was cuddle up next to him and simply reply "No..I'm ok."_

_Wilson had never brought anything serious up to her again. He had grown accustomed to her scars. At home, Cameron was comfortable. She wore tank tops that exposed the white scars on her upper arms. He never asked her to explain and she never offered. She showed him she trusted him solely by allowing him to see those scars. They had been such a private thing to her for so long. The only people she allowed into her world had been her husband, and now Wilson. There had been others that saw the scars, but none that she had purposefuly allowed to see them._

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/

Cameron slept fitfully that night occasionaly debating calling Wilson. Her arm throbbed and she took several Ibuprofen. It was a night from Hell. When she woke from her few moments of sleep she felt like a zombie. She staggered to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to confirm that not only did she look like the walking dead, but she could also portray them in a horror movie. She applied her make up and sought to pull off something resembling "normal".

Once dressed, Cameron dialed Wilson.

One ring - _"What should I say to him? What's he going to say to me?"_ She thought.

Two rings - her thought process was cut into by Wlison answering his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi James. It's Allison"

"Oh! Good morning. What's up?" He responded trying to think why Allison was calling him before work. It had never been uncommon for her to call him after work to get a drink. But, why before? Something had to be wrong.

"Could you meet me in the clinic in a half hour? I need a medical favor." She said sweetly to him.

"Consult?" Wilson was in full doctor mode now.

"Not really. Just be there?" There was a tiny bit of pleading in her voice. She needed him to be there for more than the medical reasons...she needed her friend.

"Ok Ally. See you there." His voice was reassuring letting her know that indeed her friend would be there to help no matter what the problem.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/

Twenty minutes later Cameron paced the clinic. To her, pacing was an easy way to burn calories and clear her mind. The former wasn't strictly neccessary, but she did indeed need to straighten out in her mind what to tell Wilson and what to keep hidden.

-/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/--/

Wilson pulled up to the hospital with a lot on his mind.

"What could Cameron want from me?" he pondered. Then he recalled the scars on her arms. "Oh no...she couldnt have. Not again. Those were old. At least ten years old. No, that can't be why. Perhaps she needs someone to draw blood for a test. What type of test though?"

His mind raced with all the different possibilities. As he entered the clinic he saw Cameron pacing with a look of concern and confusion on her face. Apparently he wasn't the only one deep in thought over this.

He approached her nervously. "Cameron?"

"Oh wilson. You're here" She tried to play it off nonchalantly. She still hadn't figured out what to tell him.

Cameron directed him to Exam Room Three. She locked the door and closed the blinds.

It was official, Wilson was beyond confused. Did Cameron want him to play doctor and help her, or did she want the two of them to play doctor together?

"So, what's going on here?" He asked trying to get a feel for the situation.

"Umm...I need your help. But...please, don't ask any questions. I'm not going to answer them. Not here and not now. At least...maybe later. I'm not sure. But please, just don't ask me to explain them to you?" She was babbling with fear.

"Ally, calm down. I'll help you whatever it is, and, you only have to tell me what's strictly medically neccessary. Ok?"

Cameron was visibly shaking. She couldnt' remember when she got reduced to an angst ridden teenager sitting in a doctor's office praying he didn't say the wrong thing. When had she allowed her life to get this far out of control?

"I never dealt with it" She silently admitted to herself. She knew that she needed to confront her past...just now was not an option to do it.

Her eyes filled with tears as she slipped her arms out of her sweatshirt.

Wilson stifled a gasp when he saw the damage she had inflicted on herself. He had to approach this from a clinical perspective. There were several cuts in need of stitches and the rest of them could stand to be cleaned and bandaged. He sighed deeply before saying anything.

"Ok Cameron. We'll need to get these sorted out pretty soon then. You may need to call in and tell them you'll be late into work." He mentally kicked himself for reverting to addressing her by her last name. She needed comfort right now, not some cold clinical approach.

Cameron did as told retrieving her cell phone from her bag and placing a quick call into the diagnostics lounge.

"James...I..." she began

"Allison, you don't have to explain it to me." he said with a tinge of sadness in his voice. "I'm not going to tell anyone what you did, don't worry."

"And when you want to talk...you know where I am..." he silently added to himself.


	5. Three Seconds To Talk

**A/N: So, it has been years since I wrote the original of this. For some reason though, I wanted to continue with it. Currently I have so much school work that I am doing and so much writing to do…well I needed a reprieve. So, I figured I would work on this a little more and then maybe it will help me in writing about Hamlet or various mundane topics forced upon me. So, here we go. Writing style may have changed slightly since I was 17, but I am still with this. Anyone ready to take the ride? I am aware that this goes back to season 2/3-ish. I am ok with it. Are you?**

Cameron hurried into the diagnostics office. It had taken Wilson almost an hour to get her all patched up. There was a throbbing in her arm that the pain pills could not help. She had to suffer through.

"Today," she thought, "At least I won't have to cut. This hurts enough. This is real enough."

Sliding into her seat at the table, House caught her eye. "Cameron, my mail is not sorted. Coffee is not made and oh yeah, we've got some guy dying. Where have you been?"

"I had something to take care of in the clinic. But, don't fear. Coffee is on its way and I'll have the mail taken care of in just a second."

The sly smile on her face hid a painful truth. House just couldn't figure out why she was lying to him at every turn.

_"Ok, she has an eating disorder." He thought, "But, what else is going on here? What is going on with her? Damn it Cameron get out of my head."_

House slammed his cane down on the table. "Chase! Go get a history. Foreman, you're on clinic duty."

The ducklings quickly hurried out of the room. House sat and just stared at Cameron.

"You're creeping me out House. What do you want?"

He says "I want to know what you and Wilson were doing in the clinic."

Cameron replied, shocked, "Wait what did he tell you?"

He says "Nothing. You just said it all."

--

House hobbled into Wilson's office unannounced as usual.

"House, what are you doing here?"

Before Wilson could think, there was pressure on his neck from none other than the tip of House's cane. He batted it away and said "House, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You have three seconds to talk Jimmy. Three seconds to tell me what is wrong with Cameron or so help me."

Wilson said "You'll what? You can't _make _me tell you what's going on with her. Doctor patient confidentiality."

"Cameron's your patient??" House replied.

Wilson said "I've said too much. Get out."

House yelled "Wilson, you can't just shut me out of this. Cameron is my employee. I need to know what is going on with her!"

Wilson responded "You need to ask her. If she doesn't want to talk, she won't tell you."

_Wilson tried to hide a quick shudder going up his spine. The things Cameron told him while he sutured her wounds scared him to his core. He couldn't imagine how anyone could survive the life she'd had. Couldn't House just leave her alone? Couldn't he see that Allison was hurting and didn't need more problems? Damn. What was it with House? Why couldn't he just shut up sometimes?_

As House stormed out of the office, Wilson picked up the phone and dialed. "Cameron, we've got a problem."


End file.
